My Dying Words
by Honeyshine
Summary: Slipping out the kitchen knife, I took off my jacket and shifted so that the blade was poised directly above my heart. "I will never be a part of their twisted Hunger Games," I thought fiercely. And the sharp, cold metal pierced my skin.


I stared at Ashley, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Say that again."

Ashley sighed, her dark brown hair falling in waves around her petite face. "You're obviously the best and most skilled fighter District Two has to offer. Everyone here wants you to volunteer. Besides, you got the best score on our assessment last week."

"That was a total coincidence!" I protested, my hazel green eyes wide. "The assessment was at four AM! I'm the only person who actually wakes up at that time!"

"Well, Karen and Sasha are going around, saying you _will_ volunteer." Oh. _Them._ Eighteen years old, and waaay weaker than a twelve year old. Most of the time, they just stood around near a corner of the Training Academy and gossiped. The only way they could hurt someone was with their words. That was pretty much it. They'd shamed their own families, and their parents had already disowned them. And there was the fact that they were insanely jealous of my natural looks, though I didn't even try to look pretty.

I flicked my blond hair over my shoulder. "They're probably just scared that they might get reaped," I retorted. "I'm not volunteering, 'kay?"

Ashley glanced at me with a somewhat relieved look and managed a faint smile. "Good. Because I don't want to lose my best friend."

We exchanged a hasty goodbye and parted to return to our houses to prepare for the reaping, which was this afternoon. Just wonderful.

"Feina! You ready to go to the 124th Hunger Games?"

Great. Karen and Sasha. I turned around to meet them. "Why should I be?" I asked in a bored voice.

Karen snickered. "Because in a few weeks, that's where you'll be."

"Uh-huh. And why?"

Sasha glared at me with ice blue eyes. "Just because you're always better than us, it doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want."

"Or speak to us that way," Karen added. "God, you're, like, four years younger than us."

"So?"

"So—," Sasha paused for dramatic effect. "—you should respect us," she said matter-of-factly.

"Whatever, just get out of my sight." I turned back around and headed toward my house, but the cold voice of Sasha stopped me just as my hand reached the doorknob.

"You watch your back, Feina! 'Cause we _will_ get you back for all the shame and disrespect!"

I shrugged off the threat, slamming the door in response.

Once inside, I trudged up the stairs to my room, and slipped on a knee-length silvery-metallic green dress that accented my eyes.

"Feina?" Mother poked her head through the doorway. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I muttered, but slipped out the door, throwing on some shoes before walking out to where the peacekeepers were waiting.

"Finger," one of them said, holding out their hand expectantly.

I grimaced, but held out my hand, which he grabbed and poked a finger with a sharp, needle-like tool, making blood flow to the surface, then pressing my finger against a paper.

"Next."

I walked away to where the other fourteen year olds were standing, shoving my way through the crowd.

After a few minutes, an extravagantly dressed lady strode onto the stage, followed by two others.

"Hello District Two! I am…"

I zoned out from the rest of the speech and didn't bother to pay any attention to the video she brought with her. What good was it anyway?

"And now, the tributes! As always, ladies—!"

"I, Feina Dreidis, volunteer as a tribute!" my voice cried out from where I was standing. My mouth dropped open. For a moment, there is complete silence, before the lady coughs into the microphone with a snotty "Ahem!"

"I believe we have a volunteer!" she continued. "Miss Dreidis, please make your way up to the stage."

I was transfixed with shock that was slowly disappearing. "W-what?" I protested. "I didn't volunteer!"

"Hmm, sounded like it to me," Sasha's sickly-sweet voice cut in.

"Yeah, you shouldn't just volunteer, then say you didn't. I'm sure it would be very offensive to the Capital," Karen added.

I met their gazes coldly and remembered all their practice for throwing their voices really far. _You did this to me, didn't you?_

Sasha's growing smirk confirmed my guess. _Curse their stupid ventriloquist skills…_

I felt my body go numb, but still forced myself to walk up to the stage. The extravagant lady greeted me with a hugely disturbing smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, our volunteer for District Two, Feina Dreidis!" Polite clapping answered her.

"Well, now, let us continue! For our male tribute…"

I couldn't bother to listen anymore. My eyes sought out Ashley, and her wide eyes clearly said, _"I thought you weren't going to volunteer!"_

I winced. _"I didn't!"_ I thought silently. _"I really didn't!"_

* * *

Great. The Justice Building. Sure, it was really luxurious here, but honestly!

"Three minutes!"

My head snapped up as I saw Ashley being shoved into the room with me, along with my mother.

"Mom? Ashley?"

"We met on the way here, so we decided to come together," Mother said.

I felt tears spring into my eyes, and hugged them both tightly. "I didn't volunteer! I didn't, no matter what you think! It was Sasha, Karen, and their stupid ventriloquism!" I hissed.

"I figured about as much," Ashley sighed. "After you got reaped, I overheard them laughing and preparing a pizza party, saying this time, it was their victory."

"Oh, Feina…" Mother embraced me again. "You can win this. You're strong, you're smart, and you always have good instincts. Use them."

I nodded just as the peacekeeper stormed back in and shouted, "TIME'S UP!"

Mother and Ashley looked at me apologetically and walked out, leaving me once again, alone in the Justice Building room.

I rested my forehead on my knees. I didn't want to even _take part_ in the Hunger Games.

* * *

I stared out at the passing trees as our train flashed past pretty green scenery. Next to me sat the male tribute, along with two other previous victors, who was laughing and talking about the Hunger Games, and how he'd win this year. Champagne sloshed around in the their cups and onto their clothes, but they didn't seem to care.

"Feina! You gonna join in on the conversation?" the male tribute asked.

I stared at him like he was the stupidest thing in the world. "Declined."

"And why not?"

"Please explain to me why I would want to have idle chat with _you people?_" I stood and walked onto another part of the train, only to stumble across an empty cart filled with fancy tables and tableware. Probably for tonight.

I turned and began to walk back out when a silver gleam caught my eye. _A deserted kitchen knife? And a sharp one?_ However, a plan started to form in my mind and I fingered the sharp edge to the blade. Looking around hesitantly, I slipped the small knife and a butter knife into my sleeve so the cold metal rested against my arm. _Perfect._

I returned back to my train cart and saw those three cracking it up over some talk of a girl (most likely Karen?). I saw a restroom at the back, and headed towards it. Almost time now…

"Yo, where are you going?" one of the victors asked me.

"Where does it look like?" I shrugged and opened the bathroom door, quickly closing it behind me and barring it with the long butter knife. Slipping out the kitchen knife, I took off my jacket and shifted so that the blade was poised directly above my heart. _I will never be a part of their twisted Hunger Games._

And the sharp, cold metal pierced my skin.

I'd expected pain, but not this much. My first cry of pain managed to escape me before I could react, but I bit my tongue to keep from shrieking anymore.

Unfortunately, some peacekeepers on the train had heard my first cry, and they rushed to the door and realized it was barred.

"Open the door! Are you all right?" one of them called.

_Never._ I grimaced and wrenched the knife from my chest, letting the blood flow more freely.

"Open the door!" More banging.

I smirked through the pain. Wonder how the Capital would deal with this one…

Suddenly, the door was finally forced open and six peacekeepers swarmed in, all holding guns…

…only to see me collapsed on the floor, a bloody kitchen knife in my hand. For a moment, there was a stunned silence and all I could hear was my own unsteady breathing. My vision clouded and darkened and my thoughts wouldn't process clearly. I narrowed my eyes at them and another smirk spread over my face.

"You don't own me."


End file.
